


Magical League

by madridog (FakeCirilla9), Vodka20 (FakeCirilla9)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, El Clásico, Gen, House Elves, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Magical Realism, Parody, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/madridog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/Vodka20
Summary: The not really Quidditch AU in which Luka is Dobby
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Magical League

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prompt_fills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/gifts).



> This is a result of a peculiar match discussion ;)
> 
> In case the casting is not obvious from the text, here is a little cheat sheet:
> 
> Leo Messi - Harry Potter  
> Gerard Pique - Ron Weasley  
> Sergio Ramos - Draco Malfoy  
> Luka Modrić - Dobby
> 
> That^ and Barcelona and Real Madrid are accordingly Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Another el Clásico, the never-ending rivalry between opponents not only on the pitch, Slythreal and Gryffilona. Whole football world waited for these matches, with the overwhelming majority of it cheering for the Griffons. Slytherins often complained about that but they complained pretty much about everything, Leo knew from experience. They were just a bunch of rich whiny bastards, devoted to outdated principles. (They still held house elves in this age!)

Thus inwardly motivated, Leo headed to the pitch. As the golden boy he was automatically made the captain of the team, so encouraging speeches were expected of him. He wasn't really good at these. Sometimes Geri would shout out for the other's attention. Without it, they tended to ignore Messi. So Messi often stalled in the dressing room, telling himself it's not that important. His skills will come in handy during the game itself and that was what really mattered.

He pushed the knob. The doors remained closed.

Messi tried again. And again. He rattled the doors, starting to panic a bit. The game was in ten minutes!

"Hey, is someone out there? Hello? Can someone hear me?"

"Why are you screeching like our old owl?"

Leo whirled around to see Geri, wiping his hair with a towel. He wore his usual expression that nasty people referred to as stupid but Leo was not one of them and took it for what it was: bafflement. Geri simply needed some more time than people did in general to process some things. He was a reliable friend, though, and right now Leo was overjoyed to see him.

"The doors won't open!" Leo filled him in.

"What? That's not possible. They always open."

Precious time was ticking by as Piqué went to check it himself. He repeated all of Leo's actions, growing increasingly annoyed.

He was remarkably easy to pull off balance whenever they were about to face their main enemy: Sergio Ramos. This conflict was as classic as the rivalry of their houses itself. It started long ago at the beginning of their carriers and hatchets have been never buried since. Ramos couldn't forgive Messi he had chosen to be friends with Geri rather than himself. Leo, for his part, couldn't stand the other guy's arrogance and thick-headedness. He thought himself better than Griffilona's players on the ridiculous bases such as that white was supposedly prettier than blaugrana. He shouldn't even be the captain of Slythreal, having arguably fewer skills than Leo for such a position. It was an open secret he got the place simply by knowing the right people like Casillas; that was always the case with Slytherins. Leo despised such shady businesses; Sergio looked down at him for willingly staying with the 'worse kind'.

"We'll go through the window!" Geri proposed, grinning like it was such a great idea and went to execute his plan.

"Is that really..." Leo started but was interrupted with the sound of breaking glass, "...wise?"

Geri pushed the remaining shards out with the help of the same duffel bag and climbed out rather awkwardly.

"Come on," he said impatiently over his shoulder. "We need the boy who always wins."

Messi made sure his hair covered the lightning bolt sign on his forehead and followed his friend outside.

***

This was not the only problem they had to solve before the game. Coming by the roundabout route they needed cross the gates and some really unpleasant guard with it.

"Name?" He asked with all the venom of a clerk interrupted in playing Fifa by people who audaciously dared to expect the fulfilment of his work duties from him.

"You watch us enter and leave the pitch for years!" exclaimed Leo, incredulous.

"That's irrelevant, Messi."

Geri stepped in, placing a hand at Leo's shoulder.

"Come on, let us in before the game starts. You don't want to see the white-clad snakes win, do you? And we need him to be able to do anything. Without him, all the story loses sense."

The gatekeeper reluctantly agreed and let them go after blackmailing Messi for an autograph yet.

"What an asshole," Geri muttered as they finally stepped on the artificial grass.

Leo was inclined to agree with him. "We almost missed the game!"

Gerard waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever, but he didn't even ask me for _my_ autograph!"

*  
Nearly as soon as the starting whistle blew, Leo found himself face to face with the familiar snarl of the Slythreal captain. His hair as always was slicked back and shining with whatever conditioner his ancient family must use.

"What, Messi, got scared of a game against me?" The blonde barked.

"The doors jammed..." Leo explained meekly.

Ramos laughed out loud.

"You could at least came up with a better excuse!"

Lost in taunting him, he didn't pay enough attention to the game and Leo managed to snatch the ball from under his feet. Two steps with the euphoric feeling of a win later a terrible pain shot up from his ankle and he tumbled down, seeing Ramos' legs running by.

Another whistle and Sergio was arguing with the referee, threatening with ministry's investigation and pleading with a charming smile in turns, and Leo peeled himself off the grass to a sitting position.

A hand grabbed him and he was about to say Geri he's okay when he noticed it was not Geri who leaned towards him but one of the little house elves, of those forced to play for their masters' team. This one always circled around Ramos, easing disputes and placating (rightfully) furious people who had crossed paths with Sergio on the pitch.

"You weren't supposed to play tonight!" Modrić hissed. "Why are you even here; I made sure–"

Raised voices made him pause and he glanced over to where the referee was reaching for his cards. Luka cursed under his breath and run to help Sergio.

"Hey!" Messi called after him. "It was you who locked the doors! Why would you do that?!"

The house elf did not answer him, already wedged between Ramos and the other man, convincing him to not show any card yet before the fifth minute of the game passed.

***

After the fifth or fourth tackle from Ramos' Messi laid looking into the sky while they did some magic to his leg so he could run still for the time of the game. Leo wondered at Modrić's strange behaviour. It didn't really suit Slythreal standards to be kind to your opponent, even if that kindness was nothing more but a touch of a hand. Something was off and Leo was determined to find out what.

So when they let him go, he gritted his teeth and looked around in search for Luka. He spotted him as he passed Sergio his water. Even though the elf looked worn out much more than his master, he didn't protest as Ramos recklessly poured the content of the bottle over his face, head and scruff. Leo cringed at the casual cruelty.

Luka noticed Leo's stare and, using the opportunity Sergio was focused on fixing his hair after the makeshift shower, he drifted closer to Griffilona's captain.

"What are you doing, stop staring like that. Can you live five minutes without attracting the attention of the whole world?"

Or maybe Leo had been wrong about the kindness thing.

"Why do you hate me so much? Sergio I can... well, not understand but I got used to it. But what reason do you have to hate me for?"

Luka blinked.

"I don't hate you."

"Then why were you trying to stop me from playing in the match?"

"It was for your own good..."

"Luka! Here you are!"

Messi nearly jumped at Sergio materializing next to them so suddenly as if he apparated. He threw a hand over Modrić's shoulders in a possessive gesture.

"What are you two up two, huh? Are you trying to steal my Lukita?"

"He's not a thing to be stolen," Messi pointed out.

"You better remember that," Sergio answered.

"That's not what I meant!" protested Leo but Sergio was already walking away, dragging Modrić with him.

***

"Is that shirt after your older brother, Piqué?" Leo heard Sergio's derisive voice and prayed Geri would ignore it.

But Geri, as always, swallowed the bait.

"I don't have a brother, smartass."

"Oh really? Then why is it too short? Or is it the metaphor of your skills in the game?"

That was enough to provoke Geri for an attack. Unfortunately, Modrić was too far to prevent cards this time. Luckily, they were outside the penalty area. Ramos made a dash for it anyway, rolling impressive length through the grass, painting his impeccable white green. He added some dramatic whining, "he killed me, he killed me! Ah, my leg! It's surely broken."

The only harm Leo could see done to his leg was that he lost a sock somehow during the duel.

All Ramos' efforts succeeded only in getting a yellow card for simulating. That got him to his legs instantly and he waved his hands at the referee, angry. The threatening effect was heightened when a tape slid off his forearm and the Dark Mark became visible, even through its unsuccessful coverage of thousands of other tattooed images, signs and scripts.

The red card was produced shortly after.

Sergio left the pitch even angrier, pushing off his way elves and men alike.

***

When Messi finally left the pitch, he was so sore he barely moved. All he wanted to do was to lie down and get some sleep. Even a shower could wait. One got used to a bit of dirt when living in a cupboard under the stairs... But there were things to be done first. Important things. Because what could be more important than annoying your enemy?

So Leo boldly stepped into the dressing room of Slythreal, ignoring several venison glares.

"Lost your way, golden boy?"

"I wanted to give you something," Leo addressed Sergio. "As you missed the shirt exchange, I brought you this."

Leo tossed him a bundle of cloth. Ramos caught it on a reflex.

"Eww I don't want this," he scrunched his nose and Leo wondered briefly if that was an understandable reaction to holding a fabric he spent last hour and a half sweating in or Sergio's famous aversion to blaugrana.

Disgusted, Sergio threw the fabric to Luka with an off-hand command, "get rid off this."

That was all Leo waited for. The only problem was Luka wasn't looking at him. Leo cleared his throat. Luka's attention was finally on him but so was Ramos'.

"Wanted something else?" Sergio inquired.

"Uh, yeah..." Stuttered Leo, never tearing his gaze off Luka and trying to convey him with eyes what he couldn't say out loud.

Luka looked back at him, at a loss, frowning and holding the fabrics like he forgot he had them in his hands.

Sergio was looking at Leo with a gaze he usually reserved for Geri.

The silence stretched.

"Just shake it," Leo burst out.

"What?" Asked several voices around.

Messi pinned Luka with a, hopefully, meaningful stare.

"Shake the shirt," he repeated. "Just do it!"

Without much conviction, Luka did. Nothing happened.

"Harder," Messi was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"This is ridiculous," Sergio stood up about to step to Luka but just then, from the bundle of blaugrana Modrić pulled out a white stripe of fabric.

"A sock," he said, disbelieving. He stared at Ramos' stinking football sock as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Master gave Luka a sock," he repeated; feelings distorted his speech and disentangled Spanish grammar completely.

Sergio's shock lasted a good while, then it was replaced by ire.

"How dare you?!" He pushed Messi so hard the golden boy nearly fell on the lockers. "Coming here, ruining everything with your mere presence! Do you think the whole world should bow to you only because you gained some five golden balls?"

"Six, actually."

"It doesn't matter!" Sergio roared, advancing on him. "My house elf can win that too."

"Not yours anymore."

"Exactly! Defeating the team with Dumbledoroom always at your side is not enough for you?! Now you come to steal our players yet!"

At this point Sergio nearly reached Leo but Modrić stepped between them.

"Hush, it's all right, I'll still play for Slythreal."

"You will?"

***

Luka did as he said but from this moment on, he always wore a shirt with the number of 10, after the man that gave him freedom.


End file.
